Inadequate

I thought I had control.
That each day I woke up,
I understood the dew and the way the sun reflected through
Prisms.

When I stretched my arms wide, I was alone.
The world was a beautiful canvas,
and I recognized every stroke.

I saw the sunsets
and I took a picture,
added a caption
and dwelt in its meaning.
Blazing red.

How superficial.

Do you understand yet?
Riddled by my stories.

Life was a crisp, cool morning.
Directly after dawn.
But dulled.

My eyes, my heart
They show me the glory of a full day.
From the salty fog, to the burning sun.
To happiness that hurts.
Relinquished behind the spindly branches of a shadowed tree.

Because you introduced me to a life so brilliant,
it hurts.

I am a conformist

I am a conformist.

I enjoy the things you do.
I eat fast food: greasy, ill-mannered, unappetizing.

I fall under general American apathy.
And try to say something witty about not caring,
I don't understand the economy either.

I crave stereotypes.

Shiny, framed images.
Places I'm sure to find happiness, despite what experience has taught me.

I am just like the rest of you.

Leaning against the edge of my box and straining,
Looking behind and seeing familiar faces,
Learning that I'm not as unique as I used to be.

I am a conformist.

I arrive early, but don't leave early.
Sitting in my assigned seat.
I fill in the test bubble.

I fill the voids in life with cookie cutter people.
Sleek hair/bright skin.
Even as I look for the mistakes of the batch.

I am a conformist.

I don't jaywalk.
Green arrows equal permission. Permission equals go.
I like permission to go.
Falling in line, falling in line.

Obsessed with image.
Yours or mine? Leave that question stand.

I consider the herd before making a decision.
Subconsciously, of course.

This makes me a conformist.

I am a conformist because I can't take life for what it is.
I can't appreciate its unplanned value.
I repackage.
and I'm not happy when it doesn't rearrange into a Disney movie ending.

unexpected

I'm just trying to understand
What it is that is making life as it is

How it feels completely necessary to examine the smallest particle
in the knowledge that one small piece
is Beauty.

And how each bit of song moves me to tears.
The taste of sweet and sour.

The stitch in my side that won't go away
and I'm smiling, even when no one is around.
That's the funniest, isn't it?

I'm walking, in the cold.
freezing really
alone.
Yet.
Yet!

I am grinning. foolishly

fleetingly
this passing shadow isn't going to last forever.
I fill my lungs with air
and watch my body move with life
looking at the small burn about my right thumb

Reminder:this is a work in progress.

A Scene

Cornfields spread in thin lines
Underlining the expansive array
Of leaves
Thinly supported by twigs from the distance
Pillars nearby
Fans of red; alternating golden, orange, yellow, green
Opening up to catch the sky
Full of extravagant and majestic clouds
Bright and clean above
Shadowed below
All rapidly passing to the left
Scrolling
Leaving little chance to stop and examine
How one large photograph
Is actually many leaves
And broken branches
Kernels of corn

Morning

I was dreaming.
It was your presence I remember most. Wherever you were, I was.
Your presence against my back, your hand on my shoulder.
Protection, you know?
Now it's just convincing myself
it was
in fact
a dream.

a surprise revelation

it's October
and I don't know how this happened

one day the sun shone so bright
my jeans trapped the heat so tight
I thought I would burst into flames

today was rainy.
cold, dreary rain

not.
i repeat, not the kind for puddle jumping.
for that is a different kind of rain altogether, isn't it?

Somehow
in my still puzzled state
I'm baffled
as to how the unstoppable joy
(that I thought came with the sun)
has not disappeared.

Oh, I know!
it's because I'm still here with you.